So Bright and the Seven Dweebs – A Fractured Fairy Tale

Once upon a time lived there a King and a Queen in the far off and tiny kingdom of Ohwell. The Ohwellians loved King Rupert the Heavy Handed and his Queen, Nancy the Nasty, and realized that these over the top sobriquets were pure propaganda designed to intimidate neighboring kingdoms and keep them from invading Ohwell. In truth, King Rupert and Queen Nancy were quite peaceful and lovable monarchs, and much given to games of all sorts, from backgammon to lawn bowling.

So busy were they at such recreation that they had little time for their daughter, Princess So Bright, who responded to this lack of attention as any little girl would by acting like a total brat. After a few dozen unfortunate incidents involving such misbehavior as feeding the King’s prize Great Dane a jar full of marmalade spiked with castor oil, the King and Queen decided it was time that So Bright be disciplined. Since such a task would greatly interfere with their badminton tournament schedule, they turned the matter, and the princess, over to a strong, wise, and trustworthy courtier, Sir Sean Connolly.

Sir Sean instantly set to straightening out the delinquent princess by putting her over his lap, lifting her skirts, lowering her undies, and spanking her royal bum bright red, a procedure that both shocked and embarrassed So Bright. However, in the aftermath of her punishment, the wise, strong, and trustworthy Sir Sean petted, hugged, kissed, and otherwise consoled the desolated girl, which made her feel much, much better, though it did nothing to curb her brattish behavior, since the bright little girl instantly understood that hard, stinging slaps to her bottom were a small price to pay for the cuddling that followed. What ensued, of course, was even more misbehavior, and even more trips across the handsome courtier’s lap, and she even began to call him ‘Uncle Sean,’ which he didn’t mind at all, and even saw such familiarity as license to spank her even harder, and cuddle her even more intimately, especially as she grew to young womanhood. The princess, for her part, blossomed beneath his strict tutelage, although her behavior became even more outlandish, and pieces of the royal china had to be replaced frequently following her tantrums.

Those issues aside, for a time all was calm in the kingdom of Ohwell. The King and Queen continued to play their games, the Princess kept up her brattish behavior, and Sir Sean gained serious muscle mass in his right arm from almost daily workouts on So Bright’s firm little heinie. Then tragedy struck, and a freak lawn bowling accident put an end to the reign of King Rupert and Queen Nancy. Following the royal funeral and a month of mourning, which included a nine-day Monopoly tournament, the Council of Ministers decreed that Sir Sean would act as Regent for the young Princess until she should come of age – their best guess was at around 47 – and be able to assume her birthright as Queen of the Ohwellians.

Sir Sean quickly agreed, although his second wife Lady Drusilla, was not much pleased at becoming de facto guardian and step-aunt to such a bundle of mischief as So Bright. She already felt more than a bit put out that her husband spent so much time with the princess’s sit-upon and so little with her own, but she put the smile on and stood at his side while the Council of Ministers set a gold coronet on Sir Sean’s head, signifying his Regency. After that, So Bright settled down a bit, knowing her strong, wise, trustworthy disciplinarian would spank her regularly whether or not she acted like a brat, and matters in the kingdom resolved to a fairly healthy status quo, but again, only for a time.

Sir Sean never tired of slapping So Bright’s bottom and cuddling her after, but he bridled a bit at all the tedious affairs of state that are a Regent’s responsibility, and began to quaff somewhat more usquebaugh than was good for him. One day whilst he was in his cups, a troop of knights arrived at the castle and said they were hunting the Holy Grail. In his stupefied condition, Sir Sean thought they said ‘quail,’ so he grabbed his shotgun and went with them. By the time he regained his senses he was on a ship headed to someplace called Avalon, the location of which no one was absolutely sure, and he could in no wise convince the headstrong Grail-seekers to turn back from their vain quest.

In Sir Sean’s absence, Lady Drusilla eagerly grabbed control of the kingdom and of the princess. So Bright was not at ALL into girl-girl action, and following her first and only experience involving her step-aunt, a heavy flat-backed hairbrush, a couple of burly palace guards both named Ivan who were totally loyal to Lady D., a lot of jealous ravings, and some serious paddle rash on her royal fanny, the princess packed a bag and got the hell out of there.

She headed for the royal garage and the family Bentley, but Lady Drusilla phoned ahead and threatened the parking attendants with slow death if they allowed the princess to escape the kingdom by motorcar. Devastated at the attendants’ curt refusal to give her the keys, she trudged into the vast royal deer park at the back of the estate, and wandered all the night, weeping in loneliness and frustration. Finally exhausted near dawn, she collapsed near a mossy bank where the wild thyme grew, and slept fitfully, chased in her nightmares by a battalion of very feminine, very busty hairbrushes.

When she woke, her head ached and her bottom burned, but she sat bolt upright, then sprang to her feet, her heart pounding in terror, for she found herself surrounded by seven very short men with long beards, beady little eyes, and really bad haircuts.

“Oh my god! You … you’re Dweebs!” She gasped and whirled, seeking a way out, but the circle of little men closed more tightly and she was trapped.

“That’s right. ‘Guest workers’ as the King called us when he sent soldiers to yank us from our homes in Dweebania, just to relieve his kingdom’s chimney sweep shortage.”

“Yeah huh?” The princess licked dry lips. “So what are you doing out here? I mean, are all the chimneys clean?”

“Ha!” The little man spit on the ground. “We don’t sweep no more – we’re freelance now.”

“Oh? Freelance what?”

“Domestic disciplinarians, if you must know. Lots of bored housewives like a little roast rump when their husbands don’t take care of that, and they’re willing to pay.”

So Bright’s eyes widened. “No kidding? Um, how much do you charge?”

The man shrugged. “Not at lot. Our needs are simple and we enjoy the work. A silver grickle or two usually covers it.” He held out a gnarly hand. “I’m Rod. That’s Spanky, Paddles, Whippy, Tawso, Ouchy, and Belts. Those are scene names of course.”

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you.” She took the hand hesitantly, then smiled at its warm strength when Rod squeezed. “So, what? You live around here?”

“Right here. You were sleeping on our doorstep.” Rod nodded to Belts, and the little man pulled back a curtain of foliage to reveal a small door in the bank. “You want to come in and wash up? You’re filthy and you look like crap, young lady.”

“I WHAT?” The princess snarled and stamped her foot. “You do NOT talk to me that way, you ridiculous little…”

Spanky laughed and grabbed her arm, then Ouchy and Belts latched onto her as well, and Paddles and Whippy bent at the waist side by side to form an impromptu table, over which the others draped the squealing So Bright face down, her tummy supported by the two Dweebs’ backs. Rod and Tawso whisked up her skirts and yanked down her lacy knickers, then Rod deftly plucked a switch from a nearby bush, and Tawso held her feet while Rod plied the swishy wand over and over against her bare red bottom.

“Oh ow no please ai not so ouch hard oh god oh god oh GOD!”

“The name is ROD, and I don’t know who you think you are, but you do NOT talk like that to the Disciplining Dweebs unless you want your naughty kiester scorched to a fair-thee-well!” He paused and leaned toward So Bright’s ear while she sobbed and whimpered. “Don’t worry, this one’s on the house.”

He grinned and continued to switch So Bright’s bottom, and she squealed and struggled to no avail as her smooth cheeks turned from red to scarlet. Finally he stopped and tossed the switch away, and Paddles and Whippy stood upright, dumping the princess unceremoniously to the mossy ground. Spanky knelt by So Bright’s head.

“There’s no charge, miss, but you need to thank Rod for your licking.”

“I whah? Oh. Um.” She gently rubbed her bottom, then replaced her panties and pulled her skirts down as she got to her feet. “Thank you for my spanking, sir.”
She bowed slightly, and Rod nodded in return. Spanky had been standing to the side for a few moments scratching his beard, and suddenly he snapped his fingers, grabbed Rod’s arm and pulled him a few feet away, whispering urgently in his ear. Rod’s head shook vehemently, and Spanky nodded just as energetically for a while, then Rod turned back to the princess.

“May I ask your name, miss?”

“So Bright.”

Rod kicked the ground. “Well geeze Louise!”

Spanky chortled. “I told you so!”

“Shut up, meathead!” He shuffled his feet and looked everywhere except at So Bright. “So uh, no hard feelings, huh? I mean, about your scorched, uh … what we did to your, er … oh flipping heck! Sorry about the smacking, Princess.”

She wiped her tears and smiled all round at the little men. “You said something about washing?”

The Dweebs scurried to open the door and escort her inside. Small windows set into the ceiling and tallow candles in wall sconces lighted the large cavern. There were seven small beds, all neatly made, seven washstands, seven chairs beside a long table set with seven bowls on seven plates, with a large pottery mug at each place. A large pot steamed on an iron cook stove, and filled the air with the aroma of hot pease porridge. The princess looked around and then turned to Rod.

“No shower?”

Whippy’s head bobbed as he took her hand and led her past the beds to a heavily draped alcove. “Right in here, your heinie – I mean highness!” He blushed and grinned. “Sorry, Princess, but you’ve got a really cute one and I couldn’t help notice.”

She patted his head, then glanced at the other six fretful and expectant faces, and went behind the curtain. There were seven shower nozzles along one wall of the tiled, rectangular space, and she removed her clothes and hung them on one of seven hooks that lined the other wall, and turned on a spigot. Try as she might, she could coax no hot water from the showerhead, so she sighed and gritted her teeth to bathe in cold water.

“I guess that figures,” she muttered, then gasped when she glanced over to see seven pairs of beady eyes peering at her through slightly parted curtains.

A blush warmed her a little, and she blew the little men a kiss, at which they instantly disappeared. She laughed and lathered with strong, creamy soap from one of seven little dishes.

When she had dried and dressed, she returned to the big room to find the Dweebs standing in a row, all the place settings removed except one, and a single bowl filled with aromatic porridge. She dutifully sat and allowed the men to wait on her while she ate with ravenous appetite, then she took a deep breath, picked up the empty bowl and hurled it to the floor. It shattered loudly, and the Dweebs exchanged horrified glances. So Bright crossed her arms and scowled.

“That was without doubt the worst food I ever tasted. Who cooked that crap, anyhow?”

Belts stared at the floor, his face red, lip trembling in embarrassment, but Rod nudged him with an elbow and winked, then growled as he yanked So Bright from the chair and pushed her to one of the beds. The Dweebs cackled in glee when he flung her face down and once again bared her royal bottom, and then they took turns over the next hour hand spanking her wriggly behind.

The marathon hiding done, So Bright lay on the bed surrounded by the exhausted Dweebs, who smiled at her and at each other as they petted and caressed her bottom, her back, her limbs, and her hair. Finally she sighed and pushed up on her elbows.

“What am I going to do about my wicked step-aunt, guys?”

They exchanged quizzical looks, and shrugged as one, and the princess told them at length of her plight. When she had finished, Rod nodded sagely.

“Spank her.”

“Not the answer I’m looking for, little buddy. She’d probably like it, but not enough for her to like me, or ease up off my case. What else do you have?”

The Dweebs scratched their chins for a long time, and then Snow White peered into a corner.

“What’s that on the desk there?”

Rod turned to look. “Oh, a 300-gigabyte computer with dual cores and Wi-fi.” He shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that stuff, but that’s what the rental agent said. We’re subletting.”

“Oh yeah?” She grinned. “Say, guys, let’s blog up a grassroots revolution, what do you think?”

There was much more Dweebish head-shaking and chin-scratching over the next few days while So Bright fomented her popular uprising on the internet, but she always found time every evening for an hour or two of Spank the Princess. Her favorite variation of the game was when she had the guys use their namesake implements on her bottom, but quickly learned not to ask them to trade tools, since that caused jealousy and dissension in the ranks.

The Dweebs’ love for her grew stronger with each passing minute, and they made sure to pass on So Bright’s revolutionary thoughts – “Down with the false Regency,” “This kingdom is too old for a Governess,” “Lady Drusilla sucks ditch water,” and so on – to their clients when they went out on jobs. The grickles they received for tanning housewives’ bottoms were used to buy So Bright many luxuries – chocolates, new lace panties, a gas water heater – and she responded to their gifts with foot-stamping tantrums, which led of course to extra hard spankings, her way of showing gratitude.

Lady Drusilla soon learned of the princess’s conspiracy, and sent palace guards to scour the countryside but they could not discover the girl’s whereabouts. She tried quashing the incipient revolt by shutting down internet providers, jailing protestors, and imposing a dusk to dawn curfew, but her efforts only fueled the atmosphere of rebellion. Then quite by accident, when Drusilla was tooling about the deer park on her dirt bike, she came upon a freshly washed dress drying on a line between two trees. She instantly recognized the garment, and fiendishly hit upon a plan to save her job.

The next day Drusilla disguised herself as a feeble old woman, packed a laptop, and went back to the park. After a few hours searching the area where she found the dress, she heard So Bright singing along with an MP3 track as she worked on her blog. Drusilla followed the sound and finally discovered the door to the cavern, and knocked. The princess opened the door, thinking one of the Dweebs had come home early for a bit of mid-afternoon hanky-spanky.

“Oh! Hello. Can I help you?”

“Yes, yes, my dear,” Drusilla said in a feeble old woman voice. “I have looked high and low for the heroine of the people’s revolution, so that I may give you this gift to aid you in the struggle. Will you take it from a feeble old woman?”

“Why yes, of course. This is very kind of you, feeble old woman. Won’t you step inside for a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you, my dear.” Drusilla raised a fist. “Long live the revolution!”

So Bright blinked in puzzlement as the feeble old woman hurried away, then she took the little computer inside, set it on the desk, and opened the lid. Little did she know that the wicked Drusilla had coated the keyboard with a highly toxic substance, and the instant So Bright typed on the poisoned Apple, she fell as if lifeless to the cavern floor.

The Dweebs returned from a long day of tanning middle- and upper-middle-class fannies, tired and very much looking forward to a hot supper and even more to heating the sweet little tushy they all adored, but stopped short as they entered and beheld the horrible scene that awaited them. They could find no pulse, no heartbeat, and the princess breathed not, yet still was she warm to the touch, and they fondled her bum extensively to confirm that fact.

Belts insisted they summon a physician, but Rod, bitten hard by the conspiracy bug, said they should not lest the physician be a Regent’s spy. Finally they decided to build a glass case to keep So Bright in, although none of them could say exactly why, so they did that. Then they put the case on a low pedestal at the center of the cavern, and placed the princess in the case, lying on her tummy but with her head turned to the side, and her skirts lifted and panties pulled down – her very favorite pose.

For days the Dweebs watched her and waited, again for what they knew not, and then finally one morning there was a knock on the door. Spanky went to see about it, but stopped with his hand on the latch.

“Who’s there?”

“The Professor! Open up!”

Spanky did so quickly in response to the authoritative voice, then stepped out of the way of the man who had to bend almost in half to get through the tiny portal. He wore a trench coat, a slouch hat, and a long scarf wrapped round his neck, and his deep blue eyes darted, taking in all and missing nothing.

“I understand you have a problem.”

Rod strode forward and crossed his arms. “Who the hell are you?”

“The Professor. I just said so.”

“Professor who?”

“Exactly. Now stand aside.”

He took a long-handled, flat-bladed something from an inside coat pocket and brandished it. Rod stepped back and pointed.

“What’s that?”

“A sonic spatula. Here we go then.”

The Professor wedged the spatula blade under the glass case and pushed down. Little green lights flashed on the handle, and the heavy case flipped over and crashed to the floor in a pile of glittery shards.

“Hey!” Tawso scowled and raised a fist. “We were hours building that, you big bozo!”

“Sorry.” The Professor leaned over and carefully inspected So Bright’s backside. “Just as I thought.”

He adjusted a small knob on the spatula’s handle, then reached high and brought the blade down flat on the princess’s bottom. She whimpered and quivered, and he smacked again, then again, and a dozen times more, and she squealed and panted as she pushed up her behind, an invitation to more heated thrashing that the Professor was more than happy to provide. Finally, when her bum had turned shiny scarlet, she turned and threw her arms about his neck, kissing his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

“At last, my Prince has come!”

“Professor, not Prince, and I haven’t yet, not today at any rate. Now do up your knickers. We must hurry.”

“What? Why? Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my people … my kingdom … my Dweebs! What about them?”

“Oh uh, you can come and visit some time.” He smiled, not very reassuringly, but sincerely enough for her.

“So you’re taking me to meet my destiny?”

He shrugged. “If you like.”

“And you’ll love and adore and spank me really hard every day forever and ever?”

“Why not? Come along now, we really must hurry.”

“But what’s the rush? I’d like to say goodbye to…”

“Come along!”

She waved frantically as he dragged her out the door, and the Dweebs gaped and feebly returned the wave.

The Professor pointed. “My transport is just over there.”

“Will you PLEASE tell me what all the hurry is, Professor?”

He slowed the breakneck pace and smiled. “I want to show you something.”

“Show me WHAT?”

“The universe.”

Lady Drusilla heard a strange, low-pitched, quavery drone far away, and shivered despite the warm bath in which she sat immersed. A nameless fear gripped her heart, and she gasped when the door burst open and her haggard, bedraggled, and wild-eyed husband stalked in. Sir Sean uncoiled a very long, very ugly whip.

“Where is my princess?”
***